


Burning Down the Cake

by cjmarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Formerly Anonymous, Gen, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock can't be bothered with his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Down the Cake

**Author's Note:**

> For the sherlockbbc_fic prompt: Seen lots of fics where Sherlock is much younger than people assume. What if he's actually much older?

"So a little birdie tells me it's someone's birthday today," said John, maybe a little too gleefully, waiting until Lestrade and Donovan were both in the office before letting loose with it. Perhaps it wasn't quite right to be gleeful when they were helping with a murder investigation, but it was nice to be the person with the key piece of information this time. "In fact, I hear it's a big one. One decade older."

"A person doesn't turn a _decade_ older all at once," said Sherlock, in that distracted way he had when he wanted you to believe he thought something was irrelevant. If he actually thought it was irrelevant, he wouldn't have had a pertinent comment at all.

"And here we are without cake," said Sally, "but I guess you ought to be used to that, having nobody bother to celebrate your birthday."

"Why would I want to celebrate my birthday?" said Sherlock. "Waste of time. Hand me that report."

"You know I'm not meant to actually be showing you--"

"You know I'll just ask Molly myself if you don't," said Sherlock. Lestrade sighed and handed over the file. Really, sometimes John didn't know why he even put up the token protest.

"So how does it feel to be thirty?" said John.

"Forty."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not turning thirty today, I'm turning forty," said Sherlock, flipping a page. "No, this isn't right, something's missing from the medical report."

"You're turning what?" said John, still stuck on that last point. "Are you telling me you're older than me?"

"I didn't realise I needed to tell you," said Sherlock. "I know how old you are. I assumed you knew how old I was."

"I had to get your brother to tell me when your birthday is," said John, "of course I don't know how old you are."

"Oh, you didn't bring _Mycroft_ into this, did you?" said Sherlock, closing the report and looking up at him like John had committed some grievous sin. "Now I can't pretend to have forgotten the date again this year."

"You pretend to forget your birthday?" said Lestrade.

"Freak," muttered Sally. "Are you really forty?"

"Would you like me to flash you some identification?" said Sherlock impatiently. "If you all insist on making a fuss over the date of my birth, I would consider letting me solve this case for you a suitable gift."

"You would," said Sally. "Have at, then."

"We could have a pint later," offered Lestrade. Sherlock just tucked the file under his arm pointedly. "All right then, have it your way."

"Thank you," said Sherlock. "John?"

"You're really for--?"

"Asked and _answered_ ," said Sherlock. "Come on, we have work to do."

"If you think I'm not getting you a real gift, you're mad," said John as he hurried out of the office behind him.

And though he could only see a quarter of his face at best, he was almost positive he saw Sherlock smile.


End file.
